


Moments Missed

by Cardinal_Daughter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Pining, spoilers for episode 26
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinal_Daughter/pseuds/Cardinal_Daughter
Summary: “Why do we do it? Why do we keep going back knowing we can’t stay? Knowing we can’t touch them, hold them, have them?”With the help of a new friend, Mollymauk finds a way to visit his friends several weeks after Shady Creek Run.





	Moments Missed

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I was thinking about Professor Thaddeus the other day and how funny it was that he was a dick to Beau. Then I thought it would be funny if the owl was Molly checking in on them like Vax does with his family. THEN I remembered that the owl flew away but if it were Molly that would be because he isn’t allowed to stay, just visit, and I decided that if I have to be sad about this then I’m taking all of you with me.
> 
> I have not watched Campaign 1, but I have read up on it and watched clips, so apologies for any inconsistencies related to Campaign 1. 
> 
> No beta; apologies for any errors.

**Moments Missed**

When he comes to, the world is out of focus and dark. Hazy. Blinking, Mollymauk takes a moment to allow his senses to settle, and then slowly moves to sit up.

He takes in his surroundings, and understanding instantly settles over him, hot and heavy like a tapestry wrapped tightly around him.

 _No_ , he thinks. _Not again_. 

As the reality of his situation becomes clearer and the world more abstract around him, he sees movement, and red eyes turn to meet dark ones, eyes that brim with sorrow and understanding. The stranger cloaked in shadow and darkness steps forward, and with a soft smile that belies a grim truth he holds out his hand.

“Let me help you up.”

Mollymauk stares at the outstretched hand, then his eyes trail up to the handsome face looking down at him.

“Where am I?” Molly asks instead.

The man sighs, let’s his hand fall to his side.

“You’re in the realm of the Raven Queen,” the man replies softly. “I saw what you did- protecting your friends. It was quite noble.” 

_Friends_ , Molly thinks suddenly, as the fog in his mind clears and he recalls his last moments. _Yasha. Caleb. Beau. Jester._

Scrambling up, Molly turns around and around, looking anxiously for a path, a way out, something, anything.

“I have to help them!” He cries frantically, taking several steps into the darkness before changing direction, blind in his need to find them. “We were fighting that bastard Lorenzo and Beau-“ he stops. “And I....”

A cold hand clasps his shoulder gently. “You protected them. They’re safe, or well, most of them are. They’re regrouping. Looking for help to rescue the others.”

Molly’s shoulders sink; his head drops and he stares down at the ground, as empty as the rest of wherever he is. “I’m dead. Again.”

He doesn’t see the man behind him blink curiously and carries on. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, “I should have used my brain. I should have thought about what I was doing; not just rush in like a fool-“

“We do foolish things for those we care for,” the man says, and the sorrow and reflection in his voice hints at a similar pain to what Molly feels; perhaps deeper. Molly sighs and turns to the man, searching his face for answers.

“What do I do now?”

“What we all eventually do,” the man says, “We try to move on.” He pauses a moment, then holds out his hand again. “I’m Vax’ildan, by the way.” 

Slowly, Mollymauk takes his hand. “Mollymauk. Tealeaf. Proud member of the Mighty Nein.”

Vax’ildan offers him a small smile. “Welcome to the After, Mollymauk Tealeaf of the Mighty Nein. Let me show you around.”

*** *** ***

Time is meaningless, in the After. Molly doesn’t know how long he’s been there; moments or years. But he doesn’t grow used to the lack of a heartbeat or not sleeping and eating. He tries his best to give off an air of contentment, but he knows that his new friend sees right through him. Molly sees the lingering sadness in Vax’ildan’s eyes too. Sees the way he looks off into the nothingness sometimes, as if he’s searching for something or someone. 

When Molly broaches the subject, he’s told the tales of Vox Machina: of triumph and sorrow and of a sister who is cunning and beautiful. Of a woman who was powerful and lovely but still sometimes ridiculous. Of men who became brothers. Of a love that wasn’t meant to be. Of bears and goldfish and stone servants and dragons and gods and of a deal that brought everything crashing down.

“And so I am her faithful servant,” Vax’ildan finishes at last, “My soul is hers, but my heart remains in Whitestone; in the woods with a beautiful elven woman. In a store filled with glorious goods.” He sighs, and it’s a heavy, world-weary sound. “I do not regret what has come to pass; I only regret that I am not there to witness my sister become a mother. To see my nieces and nephews. To watch my friends age and grow and become more than they ever dreamed.” He glances at Mollymauk, who has the decency to glance away, if only to hide his own tears. “What of your friends?”

Molly hugs his knees to his chest and thinks. “I hardly knew them, really,” he sighs. “They were a right mess. So was I. But it worked. We worked.” He trails off, thinks of the others who had filled his life with wonderous things in the short time they had together. 

“It helps to speak of them,” Vax’ildan whispers, “Else it feels as if they drift farther and farther from you.”

Molly does not wish to be farther from them, and so without really thinking of what he’s saying, he speaks. Speaks of Yasha and her gentle, quiet strength. Of Jester’s innocent chaos; of Nott’s maternal streak, even when misguided. He speaks of Beau’s brashness, and how he loved to push her buttons because she reacted so viscerally. Of Fjord’s awkwardness that was still incredibly charming in its own right. Of Caleb. His aloofness that hid a deep well of knowledge and an even deeper well of some unknown suffering. Of how he hid behind a layer of dirt and shame, but how, in those rare moments when he’d allowed himself, he could be absolutely charming and delightful.

How, given time and understanding and probably some self-healing on both their parts, he could have fallen completely in love with the book-obsessed wizard. Neither had been ready for such a thing, but oh... given the chance... 

Molly shakes his head, slinging away thoughts of Caleb; refuses to dwell on what could have been.

“So many things I’ll never get to experience,” Molly sighs, talons digging into his arm almost absently, “So many moments I’m going to miss. Though I suppose I’m lucky to have had any of them at all.”

Vax’ildan pats Molly’s arm in solidarity, and they sit in silence, minds wondering to those they left behind. 

*** *** ***

When Molly sees Vax’ildan return in his raven form, he’s upon him in an instant. “Teach me how to do that,” he insists, “You went to look after your loved ones; surely I can do the same thing!”

Vax’ildan gives Molly a pitying look. “I can only do it at the grace of the Raven Queen,” he says gently, trying to hint that it is not something within his ability to do. Molly understands but doesn’t care.

“Then convince her to let me do it too,” Molly insists, “I need to make sure my friends are safe. I need to know that Yasha is safe. That Jester and Fjord are alright. That Caleb is,” his voice catches, “That he doesn’t blame himself.He’s terribly good at that, you know.”

“I do not think she will agree,” Vax’ildan says carefully. Molly resists the urge to stomp his foot, knowing it would be petulant and childish. So instead he crosses his arms and glares.

“And who is she to decide who is allowed to watch over their loved ones?”

Vax’ildan blinks. “She’s... the Raven... Queen.”

“Well it’s bullshit,” Molly declares, then turns away. “I managed to come back to life once before,” he mutters, “I’ll just figure out how to do it again.”

He’s spun around roughly, and a dagger is pressed to his throat. “You will not. You’re in the Raven Queen’s domain. You belong to her,” Vax’ildan says with a viciousness that doesn’t reach his eyes. No, his eyes shine with pride and understanding.

Molly swallows, and feels the tip of the dagger prickle his skin. He isn’t worried; he’s dead. And he understands that Vax’ildan is simply doing his job. 

Reaching up, Molly gently grips Vax’ildan’s wrist and moves it away from his throat. The man says nothing, merely watches as Molly moves the blade to cut his arm, already littered with scars, and he ignites jagged ice over his talons. He grins. So it still works, even in death. 

Vax’ildan’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at the magic displayed before him, but says nothing. Merely watches the ice shimmer on Molly’s hand.

“I’ve never fought a god before,” Molly says with a shrug. “But if it means getting to see my friends again, I’m certainly willing to try.” He laughs then, and the sound is a little bit mad; hysterical. “What have I got to lose?” 

*** *** ***

“In a shocking turn of events, the Raven Queen has agreed to let you take form to visit your friends,” Vax’ildan says in greeting, some inconceivable time after the confrontation. Molly looks up, red eyes bright with surprise and delight.

“Did she now?” He says, trying to act calm and certain, even if his entire countenance, now practically brimming with excited energy, suggests otherwise.

“You may take the form of a raven-“

“A raven?!” Molly mocks, “Isn’t that a bit-“

“A bit what?” Vax’ildan challenges immediately.

“Melodramatic.”

“Coming from the purple tiefling with a coat louder than a Shrieker, that’s rich.”

Molly laughs at that, and sees that Vax’ildan is smirking as well. “That’s fair,” Molly acknowledges. “But they won’t know it’s me if I pop in looking like a messenger of death.”

“That’s essentially what you are,” Vax’ildan deadpans.

“I’d like to negotiate a different form. When I see them, I’d like to look like something with a bit more...”

“Pizzaz?” Vax’ildan asks sardonically.

Molly grins. “Exactly.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he grumbles as he turns away, muttering about “obnoxious tiefling’s” being “too picky for their own good.”

For the first time since his death, Mollymauk laughs. 

*** *** *** 

“It’s not what I would have picked-“

“It’s what you get. Be grateful she’s indulging you thus far.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it-“

“Well I asked if you could be a literal peacock but she said that wasn’t quite her style.”

“You’re being an ass; it’s unflattering.”

“My ass if very flattering, thank you very much.” 

“Oh I entirely agree; but I’m talking about you _being_ an ass. Not your ass directly.”

Vax’ildan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you going or not?”

“Yes, yes, I’m going. Goodness. If you aren’t careful I might get the feeling you want to be rid of me.” 

“Then I should be more forthcoming.” 

“Ta, darling. Off I go.”

*** *** ***

The Mighty Nein are camped in a small clearing, a few miles away from the entrance to the Menagerie Coast. The night is warm, and the group is lounging together, discussing their plans once they arrive at the Coast. 

“I can’t wait to introduce you guys to my mom!” Jester sighs, longing in her voice. “She’s going to love you! And you’ll love her! Oh! I can ask her to sing for us! She has the most beautiful voice and-“ 

A rustling interrupts Jester’s musings and the group turns its attention to the brush nearby. On alert, everyone readies their spells and weapons, and Beau stands to move ahead, peering through the brush to see who the trespasser is. After a moment she lets out a surprised but delighted shriek and disappears into the brush for a moment, the others watching curiously. She emerges a moment later, a large horned owl perched on her bracers. 

“Check out this badass owl you guys!” She calls out, and the tension that permeated the camp dispels like a wasted spell. Beau moves to sit, cooing almost sweetly to the owl on her arm, who stares, unimpressed, before pecking her temple once, then flying over to sit on Yasha’s shoulder. Yasha tenses, then looks at everyone else with unabashed uncertainty when the owl gently headbutts her. When she doesn’t respond, the owl gives off a little annoyed chirp, and headbutts her again.

The others stare on in shock, and a little jealousy on Beau’s part. 

“That owl likes you!” Jester says excitedly, scooting over to scratch it under the chin. The owl chirps happily, and after another headbutt to Yasha, hops to Jester. She squeals in delight, begins petting the bird, telling it how pretty it is and how she’s going to figure out the perfect name for it. 

“This is odd,” Fjord remarks softly, suspiciously, but makes no move to try to get rid of the creature. He settles back into his spot near the fire and watches as the large owl cuddles Jester before flying to the half-orc and cooing then moving to sit on top of Nott’s head, causing the goblin girl to tense and look at Caleb for help. Caleb reaches out slowly and makes a clicking sound, and the owl hops onto his arm. It moves up to his shoulder and nuzzles against him, cooing softly as it does. Caleb tenses as well, but relaxes after a moment and begins to stroke the owl’s back affectionately.

“Odd behavior for an owl,” he mutters to the group, “Though I must admit it’s rather charming.”

The owl chrips at that, then notices the stranger amongst the group who is watching him intently. Leaving Caleb, it flutters over to the large firbolg and rests on his knee and glares for a long moment before screeching. 

_Who the hell are you _?__

The firbolg smiles. “My name is Caduceus. Caduceus Clay. What’s yours?”

The owl blinks. Turns it’s head to glance at the others, who only watch with mild amusement. None of them seem to understand what was said, but they don’t seem surprised that the firbolg does. This is apparently a thing. 

The owl makes a small, sad, sound.

 _How much have I missed?_

A large hand gently smooths the wild feathers on top of the owl’s head. “More than you know, my friend, but hardly anything at all,” Caduceus says. Then looks up to the others. “He wonders- ow!” 

Caduceus looks down to see where the owl had bitten him, not hard enough to draw blood, but a clear warning. He rubs his finger and laughs, understanding. “I see. It’s a secret. Don’t worry, then, my friend. I won’t say a word.”

The others stare at the cleric and the owl who tilts its head curiously for a moment, then lets out a series of short, insistent chirps.

 _My name is Mollymauk Tealeaf. I’m here to see my friends. I miss them._

Caduceus nods softly, a sad, knowing, look crossing his face. “Ah. I see. Well. We are very happy to have you then, Mr. Owl. Please, stay as long as you wish.”

*** *** ***

“I’m gonna call him Professor Thaddeus.”

“That’s a stupid name, Beau.” 

“It’s not stupid! It’ll be freaking sweet when I stand like this-“ Beau positions herself in a regal pose, arm outstretched in front of her, bent slightly at the elbow, “-And I say, ‘Come, Professor!’”

The owl, seated once more on Yasha’s knee tilts its head and looks at Beauregard with a look of disdain that shouldn’t be capable for an owl. Beau glares back.

“Asshole bird.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t get attached to it,” Fjord says cautiously, knowing that his words may very well cause an uproar amongst certain party members. “It’s a wild animal. It may decide to leave.” 

“Yeah and then I can call for him and it’ll be awesome when he reappears!” Beau insists, calling for the owl once more. 

It looks at her, then turns to look at Caduceus and chirps.

 _Gods above she’s as terrible as always._

Caduceus says nothing, but snorts a soft laugh into his cup of tea. 

After a third attempt on Beau’s part, the owl gives in and flies over to Beau, resting on her arm. She positively glows. “Did you see that you guys! He came to me!” 

“And he gave you a present,” Nott remarks as the bird flies off, and Beau looks down, cursing as she storms over to her pack, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe off the droppings left behind. The owl moves to sit on Caleb’s shoulder again, and nuzzles against him.

“You are very affectionate,” he whispers softly, breaking off a piece of the bread he’s not been terribly invested in eating and offering it to the bird. The owl takes it with a happy chirp, and nuzzles Caleb once more. Caleb lets out a small sound of satisfaction and lets the bird continue its onslaught of affection. In Caleb’s lap Frumpkin growls. The owl hoots indignantly, and nestles closer to Caleb, purely out of spite.

“Play nice you two,” Caleb instructs softly, and the owl chirps in agreement, settling in comfortably as the group resumes their evening conversation. 

*** *** ***

“They told me what happened.”

The owl looks up from where it’s watching everyone sleep from its perch on Yasha’s leg. Caduceus had offered to take a solo first watch, and apparently it had been for the sole purpose of speaking without hinderance to the Mighty Nein’s visitor.

 _Did they now?_

Caduceus made a sound of affirmation. “They speak of you often; even Beauregard. They miss you very much. You clearly left your mark on them; for the better, I think.”

 _I’d rather be with them._

“I know. And I’m sure they would rather you be here too.” 

Mollymauk is silent for a long while, reflecting on the firbolg’s words; remembering Vax’ildan’s words. Finally, he moves on. 

_How did they find you?_

“Mr. Caleb, Beauregard, Nott, and two others came looking for me. They asked me for help. I think they hoped I would bring you back.”

Mollymauk tilted his head, large owl eyes blinking hopefully. _Can you?_

Caduceus shakes his head. “It goes against my nature. Death is a part of life. It comes for us all; some of us sooner than others. I do not think it right to mess with the natural order of things, even if it hurts.”

 _You sound like that bloody Raven Queen._

“Is that how you’re here then? I thought the others mentioned the Moonweaver.”

 _Stumbled onto her; or rather, a servant of hers. Managed to convince him to convince her to let me visit briefly._

The owl glances back to the sleeping pile behind him, takes in the sight of his friends and family. _I’m_ _starting to wonder if it was a mistake to come here. I find myself reluctant to leave. But I can feel the pull from the other side. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome._ He pauses, lets out a chirp that Caduceus senses is an attempt at a despairing laugh. _Story of my life, it seems._

“Well, when you do leave, as I assume you must, I hope you’ll take some small comfort in knowing that, to the best of my ability, I will take care of them for you.”

_You helped get Yasha, Jester, and Fjord back. You’re doing better than I ever did._

Caduceus picks the owl up, forcing it to perch on his arm and gently scolds him. “None of that now. You left this group better than you found them. I’ll carry on that work in your name. And you can visit as often as you’re able.”

Molly nods as best he can, then takes a hesitant step forward to awkwardly and affectionately headbutt Caduceus.

 _Thank you_.

“You are most welcome.”

Molly turns them to look at the others. Takes stock of their faces, the intricacies of who they are. He watches as Yasha sleeps propped up against a tree, a small piece of colorful braided rope Molly had given her long ago clutched in her hand. 

He looks at Jester, his ridiculous friend who had been so eager and happy to indulge his shenanigans. Fjord, his longsuffering roommate. Beau, still annoying but changed somehow. Nott, curled against Caleb.

_Caleb_...

Molly sighs, then notices that clutched in Caleb’s palm is his old periapt necklace. His head tilts curiously at that and Cadiceus, who seems to be acutely aware of everything, remarks softly, “He fiddles with the necklace quite a bit, especially if your name is mentioned. I don’t think he quite realizes.”

Molly says nothing; merely watches the slow and steady breathing of the wizard for a long while as Caduceus quietly catches him up on everything that transpired between his death and now. 

When the Mighty Nein awake in the morning, the owl is nowhere to be seen, and only a few scattered feathers leave a hint that the owl was ever there.

*** *** ***

Molly blinks and is back in the strange After. As he gathers his bearings he feels a hand clasp his shoulder. Refusing to look, Molly keeps his back to Vax’ildan, trying and failing to covertly wipe away the tears that sting his eyes.

“It never gets easier,” Vax’ildan whispers, throat catching from his own sorrow, “To leave them behind.”

“Then why do we do it? Why do we keep going back knowing we can’t stay? Knowing we can’t touch them, hold them, have them?”

Vax’ildan considers this. Then after a silence that stretches thin, whispers, “I suppose if I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t need to keep going back.”

Molly nods in understanding, and doesn’t fight the next wave of tears as they fall. He lets himself be pulled into a hug by the taller half-elf, and together they mourn. They mourn for themselves, for each other, and for all the opportunities and moments missed. 


End file.
